


Little Victories

by demowrites



Series: Occupational Hazards [6]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, Heroes to Villains, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-10-01 17:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demowrites/pseuds/demowrites
Summary: Platonic fluff.





	Little Victories

“I still don’t feel like I belong here.”

Chen eyed me around the sip of his coffee, his mind processing my sigh and maudlin beer swirling as me being in “one of those moods again.”

It wasn’t a bad thing, in his mind. He had kept careful tabs on the subtle, and occasionally abrupt, shifts in my attitude, filing away potential triggers for future references. I wasn’t really aware we had a future to reference, but it was a nice change of pace to have someone actually consider my needs in a way that wasn’t trying to smother my upsets with charm and a mustache.

“It’s not like that,” I murmured, swallowing my beer, and my feelings on _Chen considering my feelings_, down with a grimace. “I feel like I’m sneaking into a private club whenever you bring me here. It makes me feel kind of…” my hands waved ominously in front of me for a moment, causing Chen’s eyebrow to raise slightly to temper the grin.

“Guilty?”

“Something like that.” He did chuckle this time, his amusement unable to be smothered with a glance at me. I wasn’t sure if I was frowning or grinning, but he didn’t seem particularly disturbed by either one at this point.

_When did that happen?_

A memory surfaced of the first time Chen tried to clap me on the shoulder. It was nonchalant, casual, a means to reassure and dampen my mini anxieties. I didn’t really think anything of it, but Chen apparently did. He spent the next several following minutes questioning the delivery of his own platonic action, if it was too much and if he had accidentally made it awkward rather than reassuring. The planes of his face remained neutral, eyes focused on Spoon as he rediscovered his own tail, but he was just distracted enough to let a bit drift through his shielding and over into my own consciousness. 

Somehow, that made it easier, knowing that the person next to you is operating on a similar level of uncertainty and social awkwardness. Or maybe it was because they could read his mind and not Ortega’s-- but it _was_ easier.

“Maybe you’re not a veteran, but it's not as if you haven't served the public in your own way... I think most of us in here have paid a similar price for that,” he shrugged nonchalantly, taking another bite. It was a rare moment that he ordered actual food, and seemed excited to finish it, giving me a moment to mull that over. 

I knew he was referring to the damage of Heartbreak and my days as Sidestep, but despite not knowing the details, he always had some suspicions about my past. I never really elaborated on anything, but his paranoid list combined with the little details-- my skittishness, the secrecy, my skills… he, at the very least, can piece together enough. 

“...I suppose.” A small tug at the corner of my mouth evaded me, but caught Chen’s attention. 

Neither of us were as on guard as we used to be, time and a well placed noodle dog giving us the opportunity to really look at each other differently. It opened up the strange new concept that Chen didn’t want anything from me, oddly enough. Just glimpses of time, a patchwork quilt of new, quiet memories of dog parks, the pleasant slap of Spoon’s tail, and bantering over coffee while the past slips a little further behind us each time. He noticed things now, little things that didn't pertain to paranoia and suspicion. I always noticed things, but now they weren’t meant to fuel the endless bickering I pursued out of spite. 

Maybe I _was_ in a mood. Maybe I was just comfortable enough with Chen to let some things slip. 

Dangerous business.

“Besides,” he continued after another moment of eyeing me. “Since you’re friends with me nobody here cares anyway.” I froze, a wild grin forming as I placed my beer bottle down harder than necessary. 

_“What did you just say?”_

He froze with cup in hand, trying to remember the last 30 seconds.

“What--”

“Did you just say we’re _friends_?” My audible, dramatic gasp was met with a roll of his eyes. “This is so sudden, I don’t know what to say--”

“Please stop talking--”

“I mean the proposal is just out of the blue, I’m so surprised that I’m your BEST FRIEND--”

“_Not_ my best friend--”

“--being _best friends_ is such a beautiful partnership--”

“I happily rescind the invitation,” he raised his cup with a glare, as I chuckled at the subtle dusting of embarrassment tinting the tips of his ears. 

“That’s probably for the best. I can only have so many friends, you know?” I leaned back again, swirling my beer ever so slightly before taking another sip. “I mean, Ortega already takes up about three slots on his own, and Spoon is already my number one--”

“You can’t be best friends with my dog and not--”

_“So you admit it then?”_

His glare withered under my smirk, my teasing finally being greeted with a grimace. 

Little victories are still victories.

“I have so many regrets…” he murmured, focusing on his food once again. I rested my chin on my hand, memorizing his minute embarrassment to file away for future reference.

“In life?” 

“In the last hour. Specifically with you.” 

Laughter comes easier than it used to, momentarily unencumbered by the shadows always lurking in my peripheral. Ghosts of trauma never forgotten hung between us, robbing the moments in between of any sense of wonder. 

But for a little while, our bickering turned into banter and the world seemed a little calmer.


End file.
